Gemotions

The old woman sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creaks a familiar soundtrack to her life. From this vantage point, she had watched the world change around her. Now, the world was changing again, and she felt a sharp pain that twisted through her like cold wind. The house, her anchor for decades, was scheduled to be leveled tomorrow. A single tear traced a path down her weathered cheek, a silent testament to the love and loss contained within those walls. The wind began to pick up, and she wrapped her shawl tighter, as if to ward off the encroaching emptiness.